


Nameless

by whiteblossom



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Rated E for Sexy Time, ShiSakuWeekend082020, Smut, Yakuza!Shisui, shisaku
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteblossom/pseuds/whiteblossom
Summary: After a long grueling work shift, Sakura finds trouble. Or rather, trouble finds her.A Yakuza Shisui fic written for ShiSakuWeekend082020!
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 79
Kudos: 216





	Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> Yakuza Shisui had me feeling some type of way. I don't know what spiraled me down the deep hole that is Yakuza Shisui but I have no regrets. This fic was extremely fun to write and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did!
> 
> Shout out to the girls from the discord, I hope you guys spontaneously combust hehe.

The walk to the subway felt longer than usual. Twelve code blues and three car wrecks in one night is enough to make anyone's day feel long and after 14 hours on her feet, Sakura is desperate for a hot bath and a warm bed. Her wrist watch reads 10:50 PM, and she picks up her pace in hopes to make the 11 o'clock train.

When she makes it down the steps that lead to the subway, she's out of breath, pushing her way past the turnstile just as the train speeds away. She curses, looking at her watch that now reads 11:02.

She lets out a tired sigh, running her hand through her hair and grimacing at the sweat and grime that clings to her strawberry locks. Shifting her backpack to the side, she slumps against the subway wall. She can feel the exhaustion seeping deep into her bones, an ache that fills her from the inside out. Her eyelids feel so _heavy,_ and she struggles to keep her eyes open and focused on the platform. 

_Come on, Sakura. Just ten more minutes until the next train._

She rubs at her eyes and reaches for the bottle of water tucked into her bag when she hears a sudden popping noise resonating off the walls. She crouches immediately, arms raised over her head as she hears a second shot and then an another. There is only silence after that, and the sound of her heartbeat pounding in her ears is the only reassurance that she is alive and unharmed. She brings her arms down slowly, head swiveling left and right, searching for any signs of danger. Her legs are unsteady as she moves to stand from her crouched position and her hands tremble, fumbling to unlock her phone. She only manages to dial 9-1 before a soft groan reaches her ears. 

Sakura pauses, ears straining for what feels like a lifetime, and then she hears it again. She's been an ER doctor long enough to know what a person in pain sounds like and so she runs to the center of the platform, frantic eyes searching for the source of the sound.

A minute goes by and Sakura remains frozen, sure of the sounds she heard but eyes coming up empty.

The train pulls up then and Sakura heaves a sigh of relief but it's short lived when she turns and sees a body tumble down the subway stairs. 

There is no hesitation in her movements as she rushes towards the body, fear forgotten. She’s in her element now, focused only on the injured person that’s now sprawled our directly in front of her.   
  


It’s a man she realizes, and even in the dim lighting of the platform, she can see that he’s unnaturally handsome. Her eyes zero in on the boyish features that adorn his face, long eyes lashes that match the dark ebony color of his curly hair. His soft features are contrasted by the defined cut of his jaw and the creases at the corner of his eyes that tell Sakura he’s older than he looks.   
  
Clinical eyes and hands rove over him, textbook print recited in the back of her mind. _Airway, breathing, circulation._ She finds a pulse and reaches for her back pack, finding the trauma scissors she keeps handy and cuts away at his crimson soaked shirt.   
  


She finds the bullet wound immediately, situated just underneath the cuff of his shoulder. A quick assessment tells her that it’s a through and through but the blood loss is significant so she reaches for her phone again, intent on calling an ambulance when a rough, bloody hand curls around her wrist.

Sakura’s head snaps back to gape at the barely conscious man, and for a moment she’s breathless. His eyes bore into her, a darker shade of black than his hair but she can make out bits of grey speckled across his iris. Her gaze drops to his lips and she realizes he’s saying something to her, or trying to. She leans toward him, and hovers her ear just above his mouth and represses the shudder that passes through her when he feels his breath caress the shell of her ear, “No- no hospital.” 

Her eyes scrunch in confusion, but she doesn’t hesitate in replying, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You need a hospital.” 

He shakes his head, releasing his hold on her wrist to stand. Unsurprisingly, he stumbles forward, head smacking against the concrete and she lunges forward, unable to stop the scolding that comes tumbling out of her mouth. 

“Quit that you idiot!”

She looks around the empty platform and sighs, “Look. Fine. No hospital. But you need to let me help you.”

He looks at her, eyes glazed and unfocused but still, Sakura can feel them piercing into her soul. She doesn’t know why she’s trying so hard. She isn’t stupid and she knows that this mans refusal to be seen at a hospital and the gunshot wound can only mean he’s nothing but trouble. But still ... She places a hand against his arm. “ _Please.”_

He nods, hesitating only when he looks back up the subway stairs. “Not here.” He gasps and Sakura moves, slinging his arm over her shoulders to help steady him. She isn’t strong enough to carry him back to her apartment and so she settles on the next best thing. The bathroom. 

She kicks open the door, dragging his nearly limp body with her and shoved him against the wall, arms hooked underneath his to help him slide down until he’s sitting with his legs stretched in front of him. 

His skin is pale now and his pulse is fast and thready, a sure sign that he’s going into hypovolemic shock but she has no fluids to push so she settles for stopping the bleeding as quick as she can.

She double checks the lock on the door and then empties her backpack on the floor beside him, foraging through the supplies that she’s collected over the last few months. An excited gasp escapes her lips when she finds a small suture kit, tucked behind two four by four gauze packs. 

Grabbing the bottle of alcohol she turns to him, eyes scrunched in concentration. “This is going to hurt. But I need to stop the bleeding.” Her voice is calm, soothing almost, an asset she’s picked up after years of bedside patient care. 

His replying nod is subtle and she gets to work immediately, pouring the alcohol over the wound. He hisses at the burning sensation, jerking his arm away from her but her grasp is firm and she continues her work undisturbed. 

She fetches the needle and thread from the suture kit and looks up at him with apologetic eyes to realize he’s watching her, eyes hooded and tired. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but I need you to stay still or you’ll pop the stitch. Can you do that for me?”   
  


He studies her for a moment and his lips twitch just slightly, a small smirk forming on his pale face. “You got it, doc.” His voice is raspy and strained but Sakura can’t help but laugh incredulously at this mans audacity to flirt when he has one foot in death’s door. 

She shakes her head at him, hovering the tip of the needle just above the skin surrounding the hole in his shoulder before she pushes forward. He tenses against her, jaw clenched tight, trying hard to suppress his pained groans. His forearm flexes underneath her small hands muscles rippling against her palm and she has to double down on her focus. She works quickly, expert hands weaving the needle in and out of his skin and in no time she’s done and working on the other side of his shoulder. She places some four by four gauze against both wounds and tapes it down, tightly.   
  


When she’s finished, he’s laying lax against the wall and for a moment she thinks he’s passed out, either from pain or from the blood loss she’s not sure. She presses her fingers against his jugular, and his pulse feels stronger against her. His eyes blink open and she stills, hand still pressed to the side of his neck. He reaches up to cup his hand over hers and he seems to ponder something before a mask is up and his face is stoic and emotionless. 

He peels her hand off of him, turning his head away from her and speaks gruffly, “You need to go.”   
  
Sakura shouldn’t be shocked. She hardly knows this man, but the change in demeanor throws her off and suddenly a spark of anger ignites inside of her because she just _saved his life_ and she at least deserves a thank you. She tells him just this.   
  
He doesn't react to her, not verbally, but his brows pinch together and his eyes harden into the fiercest glare she’s ever seen. Her heart stutters in her chest and she’s horrified at the fact that beneath the fear there is a heat blooming between her legs. 

“Leave.” He repeats and her arms and legs move on their own accord, hastily tossing in her things back into her bag before scrambling towards the door.

Her hand hovers above the door and she turns to look at him one last time, but he’s avoiding her gaze, staring at the bloodstained tile in front of him. 

She unlocks the door and walks out, just in time to catch the next train. 

After she’s gone, midnight eyes stare at the door before reaching in his back pocket for his phone.   
  


“Itachi. Come get me, _now.”_ He gives him his location and hangs up, giving one last look at his surrounding before something catches his eye. The front of it is smeared in his blood, and he wipes it against his jeans to get a better look. It’s an ID badge, he realizes, and beneath the picture of his pink haired savior, it reads: **_Dr. Sakura Haruno._**

A smirk forms on his lips and he slips the badge in his back pocket. _Sakura, huh? How fitting.  
_

* * *

_**Three Weeks Later  
  
** _

Sakura fumbled for the keys to her apartment, glancing behind her every few seconds. It’s been three weeks since the incident and since then she’s refused to step foot into a subway, opting to walk the two miles from the hospital to her flat. 

She spent the first two weeks being eaten alive by her nerves, waiting for the moment that the authorities would drag her out of work in handcuffs for aiding a criminal. But it never came. Even more surprisingly, there had been no news of a shooting in the daily news. She had flipped through every news channel frantically, bought every paper and still _nothing.  
  
_

Between the nerves and the fear, there was also a persisten feeling of paranoia tickling the back of her neck. It was a new feeling, and a hard one to explain but it had her constantly looking over her shoulder. There had been multiple times when she’d swear she felt eyes on her, only to turn and find she was alone. 

She rest her forehead against her door, inhaling deeply to calm her racing heart. Finally managing to find the right key, she made her way into her apartment and closed the door behind her, gliding her palm against the wall in search of the light switch.   
  
The bright light took some time to adjust to and she peeled her lab coat off when the rustling of clothes made her freeze on the spot. 

“Dr. Haruno.”

She turned toward the voice, mechanically, hands pressed against her chest in a fruitless attempt to protect herself. 

  
The man she found leaning against the back of her sofa was almost unrecognizable if it hadn’t been for the dark eyes lined with thick black eyelashes. His skin was a soft ivory with pink undertones, a clinical confirmation that he had recovered from his blood loss. 

He stood proud before her, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes glinting as they roved over her form from head to toe. 

Sakura fisted her lab coat in her hands and managed to croak out, “Wh- What are you doing here?”   
  


He didn’t answer, instead slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a familiar ID badge. He tilted his head, pushing off the sofa to take a step toward her.

“Returning this.” 

He took another step toward her, then another until her nose was inches away from his chest. 

“And to thank you.”

Rough fingers grasped her chin and angled her face towards his. Emerald clashed with ebony and her heart stuttered in her chest at the hungry look on his face. Everything about him screamed danger. She knew she should be afraid, but something crept into the back of her mind. Something that made her body tingle and her blood flow hot like molten lava. It washed away her fear, replacing it with a curiosity that she desperately longed to sate.   


He leaned closer to her, hand snaking around her neck to gather a handful of hair in between his fist.   


“Are you afraid of me?” His voice was rougher, and the sound sent a jolt of arousal down her spine.   


She almost whimpered at his question, legs pressed tightly together to ease the sudden ache building between them.  


There‘s a forceful tug against the back of her head and this time she does whimper and she watches his lips curl into an appreciative smile.  


He repeats his question to her, and the lab coat falls from her hands, fingers curling into the front of his black button up shirt.   


“No.” Her voice is breathless, but there is no hesitation in her answer. 

He holds her face angled toward his and she sees his gaze soften momentarily and eyes fluttering closed and he presses his forehead against hers. 

“You should be.” 

His lips press against hers with a bruising force and there is no gentleness in his touch as he slips his tongue between her lips. His fist tightens around her hair even further and she gasps at the feel of a rounded metallic bulb centered at the tip of his tongue. She can feel his smirk against her lips and she doesn't have time to think before his tongue is swirling and curling against hers. He draws the appendage into his mouth, giving it a sharp suck before pulling away and she is completely captivated by his hooded eyes and swollen lips.

He leans forwards, tugging her earlobe in-between his teeth and asks, "Bedroom?"

The question lifts some of the hazy fog from her head and she regains enough brain function to piece together her thoughts.

"Your name?" She retorts, "I don't even know your name."

Theres a gust of air against the skin of her neck when he chuckles and places a tender kiss to the underside of her jaw. "Does it matter?"

He lets her think it over, but it doesn't take long to realize he's right. It's already gone this far, and even without his name, she's never felt so drawn to someone before. She pushes against his chest gently, and there's a brief look of disappointment on his face before she tugs his hand in the direction of her bedroom. 

Her room is littered with textbooks and she almost apologizes for the mess but he's already unbuttoning his shirt. He glances over at her briefly and his voice is steady when he commands her to strip. 

She does as she's told, willing herself not to shudder at his smoldering gaze. She can feel the weight of his stare as she steps out of the last layers of clothes. He moves toward her and she yelps when he pushes her onto her bed, glaring at him when he laughs at her startled reaction. 

Her glare is half hearted and suddenly she's gaping at the sight of him naked and towering over her. There is a multitude of things, she realizes, that she had failed to notice when treating him. Her eyes take in the ink that paints the entirety of his arms, all the way to his chest. It's dark but she can make out a crow situated in front of a crimson moon that's adorned with 3 pinwheels, and she can see that his chest is well defined despite the tattoos that cover it. There's a glint of silver, and suddenly, she's drawn to two straight barbells that are placed through each of his nipples and there's a distinct urge to run her tongue over them, to feel the cold press of metal against her tongue.

The skin of his abdomen is free of ink but there's a multitude of scars that cover the expanse of his toned torso. Her eyes flicker lower to the deep v cut of his hips, and her mouth runs dry at the heavy member that hangs between his legs. Her core throbs at the size of it and curious hands reach out to finger the curved piercing situated at the tip of his cock. 

She feels him twitch at her touch and with newfound confidence, she slides down the bed and onto her knees. He watches her, eyes tracking every movement and his lips pull into a mischievous smirk as he threads his fingers through her hair. "Are you going to suck my cock, baby?"

Sakura nods eagerly, tongue already darting out to lick the underside of his shaft before taking him in her mouth. His cock is hard and warm, and there's a hint of metal from when she traced his piercing with the tip of her tongue. She feels greedy in her actions, and she relaxes her throat, eyes brimming with tears as she takes all of him in her mouth. 

He curses, canting his hips forward until her nose meets the base of his pelvis. She looks up at him, tears streaking her face and drool dribbling down the sides of her chin before she hollows out her cheeks and sucks.

" _Fuck_ , baby. You look so pretty with your mouth around my cock." 

His hands work to gather her hair in his hands and once he has a secure enough hold he pulls out just slightly before thrusting his hips forward. The groan that leaves his mouth makes a gush of arousal drip down her legs, and she hums around him, sending vibrations up the base of his cock. His thrusts pick up pace, his rhythm erratic, and Sakura watches as his face contorts above her, mouth parted and eyes pinched shut. He tenses, cock spasming in her mouth as the first of his cum reaches the back of her throat and she swallows. 

He releases her hair and his cock falls from her lips, still hard despite just cumming. His hands run through his hair, now damp with sweat and he laughs quietly. "Damn, blossom. You're really good at that."

The praise makes her smile and she moves up from the floor when he gestures to the bed. He settles himself between her legs, pressing her into the mattress as he meets her lips with his once again. The kiss is short and he tugs her bottom lip in between his before he releases it with a wet _pop._ He makes his way lower, and she can't help but gasp when she feels the familiar metallic sphere against her erect nipple. The sensation is different, almost odd, but it makes her toes curl all the same as she fists the bedsheets in her hands and moans. 

He alternates, tongue swirling around one puckered peak while his hand pinches and kneads at the other. His movements are rough but Sakura finds that she likes it, and the ache in between her legs grows fiercer. 

His tongue drags down from the valley of her breast down to her navel, and the anticipation is almost too much for her to bare. She releases the sheets and threads her hands through his dark locks, directing him toward the place she desperately needed his touch. He chuckles at her impatience and presses kisses to the skin just above her trimmed pink curls. Slipping her legs over his shoulder, he fixes her with one last smoldering look before he drags the tip of his tongue in between her slit.

"You taste so good, baby."

Sakura lets out a load mewl of appreciation, back arching off the bed. Her legs wrap around his head, dragging him deeper into her as he presses his piercing press against her clit, twisting and curling, spelling his name out against the sensitive bud. He's methodical and unhurried in his movements, drawing out her moans slowly and with a patience that surprises her.

His fingers dig into the skin of her things and suddenly her legs are being pushed back against her chest with his face buried inside her dripping heat. Her back bends and her hands dig into his scalp, coming apart beneath him when he takes his clit between his teeth and _sucks._

Her legs tremble with the force of her orgasm, but he steadies her, tongue pressing into her as he works her through the tremors of her ecstasy. Her eyesight blurs and then refocuses on the sight of him, face drenched in her slick. He climbs on top of her, and there's a predatory gleam in his eye that makes her insides clench. She can feel the stiffness of his cock pressed against the inside of her thigh and she wraps her legs around his waist, angling her hip so that he slides in between her wet folds. 

He leans his head closer to her, lips a breath away. "Aren't you going to clean up the mess you made?"

Her eyes widen but she doesn't back down from his challenge and runs her tongue over his lips, moaning at the taste of her. It's his turn to be surprised but he shakes himself from it, smirk widening into a mischievous smile. "You're something else." 

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Is that a good thing?"

Shifting his hips, he presses the head of his cock against her entrance before answering, "A _very_ good thing." He pushes forward, cursing at the feel of her tight walls enveloping him.

Sakura's eyes roll to the back of her head and she's lost in the sensation of being stretched by him, being filled by him. His length feels thick and hard inside of her and it takes a few moments before she can adjust. She wraps her arms around his shoulder, fingernails digging into the skin of his back and she cants her hips against his.

"Please." she begs. "I need you. I need you to fuck me."

It's the first words she's spoken and the sound of her voice, husky and breathless has him obliging almost instantly.

He pulls his back for enough so only the tip of his cock is buried inside her and he waits. Waits for her green eyes to find his and then he snaps his hips forward. The reaction is immediate. Sakura's eyes widen and her jaw drops in a voiceless scream as he sets a brutal, punishing pace. The bed rocks with the force of his thrusts, headboard banging into the wall with each rock of his hips. 

There is nothing else that Sakura can do but hold on to him as he ruts into her over and over again. She can feel the pressure building low in her belly, a coil ready to snap and then he shifts. He angles his hips so that the ring on his cock is pressing against her g-spot and she sees stars. He grunts at the feel of her walls clamping down on him, forcing him into deeper and slower strokes. 

She cums around his cock this time, and she suddenly wishes she knew his name so she can scream it out to the heavens. Instead she settles for a mantra of _Oh, god. Oh, god._ as her entire body convulses underneath him. Every neuron in her body is lit up, synapses firing one after another. 

He doesn't give her time to recover, and suddenly he's underneath her, hips rutting up into her in a frenzied pace. She wills her body to move, hips lifting and falling to meet his. He groans and the grip on her hips tightens, and its almost painful but the adrenaline thrumming through her veins blurs the ache. It's thrilling. The feeling of his hands against her, anchoring her to him in a relentless hold. His mouth is pressing against the skin of her neck, collarbone, and chest, mapping out the dips and curves of her skin, marking her as his. 

They cum together. In a flurry of limbs and broken moans and with his cock buried to the hilt. It's earth shattering and Sakura knows this man, whatever his name is, has ruined other men for her. 

* * *

The next morning, Sakura wakes up alone, the only evidence of his visit in the form of a folded up note that reads: _Shisui._

**Author's Note:**

> I am not even a little bit sorry for writing this. 😤
> 
> Leave a 🌶 or 🔥 if you liked it and a 😈 if I should add to this!
> 
> Also: consider giving me a follow on Tumblr! 
> 
> @wickedblossom13


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